


in the woods somewhere

by space_vagabond



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, its very vague but yeah seteth is the one who found him, just a "hey what happened here" fic, what if byleth woke up alone, what if seteth found him instead a random villager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_vagabond/pseuds/space_vagabond
Summary: Three years after his fall, Byleth wakes up alone at the bottom of a ravine.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	in the woods somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> What if Byleth had a bit more of a struggle with waking up? Instead of a five year nap, let it be a three year snooze with an unpleasant awakening in the middle of it. Byleth is still only human, despite being a vessel for a goddess who was imbued with her powers. Here's my take on it.

* * *

Byleth can feel a numbing coolness surrounding him. His whole body felt heavy, moving nearly brought him too much effort.

A voice at the back of his mind reminded him to wake up.

His eyes opened to a moon lit sky, high rocky cliffs framing the view. Water lapped at his ears, muffling the returning sounds with a steady pace. Byleth began to shiver as he came to. 

The coolness surrounding him was a river stream, cold and constant. The weight pulling him down was his clothes, soaked and heavy. 

He had something to do. 

Byleth needed to get up.

He pushed himself up on his elbows, his stomach turning violently. Byleth felt water and bile rising up in a burning sensation from the back of his throat. Forcing himself to his knees, he doubled over, gasping for air once he had emptied his stomach. 

Byleth braced himself, trembling arms holding himself up as he heaved. A dull throbbing started to pulse through his head as he took in air, the disgusting taste lingering in his mouth. His vision swam with blinding greens and winking silvers as he felt his breathing steady and the burn in his throat subside. Byleth waited for a moment, feeling his senses return to him, the coolness of the water he felt making his legs ache and his fingers almost burn. He rinsed out his mouth, trying to piece together his situation, all the while something nagged at the back of his mind.

A voice urged him to get back up. He had a promise to keep after all. The voice left a buzz in its wake, making a wave of dizziness roll through his head. The small presence faded along with the voice, leaving him alone. He groaned as he steadied himself, watching as the green strands flowed with the silver that glinted until his vision cleared.

Byleth blinked, breathing in as he cleared his mind. Where was he?

He lifted up his head, wincing as he pitched to side with a sharp tug. Under his hand were the bright green strands he saw and he realized what they were. His hair had grown long and unruly, coiling down to his waist. He ran a hand through the bulk, feeling the mats and knots his fingers tugged on.

As Byleth looked at himself, the more he noticed. His clothes were torn and tattered. The jagged cuts that tore through the fabric showed the scars that he had gained from his fall, long since healed. He must look a fright in this state.

A ripped glove ran over the raised marks. Not even the goddess's power could heal all wounds without leaving a reminder.

He felt a deep sadness bloom in his chest. These ruined tunic and cloak were gifts from his father, when he came of age. He'd get them mended when he returned to the monastery. 

Yes, the monastery. He needed to get there. 

Byleth settled a hand over his chest, where his heart would be beating. It was there an ache started to grow. 

He had a promise to keep. Byleth stood slowly, trying not to fall as the stones underneath his boots started to shift with his weight. The water trickled off his soaked clothes, his hair dripping onto his face. He pushed it back with a huff, feeling the chill start to settle deep in his skin.

He stumbled for a moment, his foot catching against something that clattered loudly on the stones.

The Sword of the Creator. 

He breathed a sigh of relief, the sword humming to life in his hands as he fixed it to his empty scabbard. His steel sword was missing, mostly likely lost in the fall. Byleth felt his thoughts soothed as he found a concoction stowed safely away in the pocket of his cloak.

It wasn't much, but it was more than enough for him to find a village or a town for a safe haven, given that he wouldn't encounter some unsavory types in these woods, human or not.

Carefully, he made his way out of the river stream, taking a slow pace as his head got used to the rush. The cold grew biting and Byleth frowned, feeling a sharp knot twisting in his gut. As he walked alongside the tall rock face, Byleth felt the soreness overtake his legs. His body was still trying to recover from his fall, he shouldn't be awake, but fate decided otherwise.

The discomfort he felt only grew the longer he walked. His clothes were freezing and soaked, sticking to him as he looked at his breath fade in front of him. 

The moon had moved farther across the sky, but dawn wasn't coming anytime soon. The only sounds Byleth heard was the crunch of gravel under his boots, and the soft sound of water running over stones as he walked. No wind in the trees from up above him, nor the sounds of the forest echoing down to him. It felt like the forest surrounding him was holding its breath.

The silence was unnerving.

Alone with his thoughts, Byleth tried to piece together what happened to him. He remembered a battle, the roars of men and monsters alike, the feeling of terror as he fell a long way down. The pain he felt was but a single moment until the darkness consumed him. 

Byleth remembered the time he and Sothis were trapped in the void. Haunting and cold, the void was somewhere they couldn't last without going mad. That was the day that she gave him her power, her presence next to his was sorely missed. 

This darkness felt like something else, like being wrapped up in a blanket, or sleeping in the shade of a tree on a sunny day. It was comforting from what Byleth could remember. 

She was still with him.

Lost in his thoughts, Byleth nearly didn't notice the walls of the ravine start to fall away, giving way to thickets and tall pines. Byleth sighed, feeling better about his situation but still wary. He could make camp if he needed to, though he wasn't sure if it was wise to do so. A village or town was a better choice, but there wasn't always the chance that he would stumble across one as he traveled. 

Byleth would make a decision soon, first he had to figure out just where in Fodlán he was. 

The moonlight shone everything in its silver hue, Byleth taking in what he could see as he looked around. The ravine behind him, long and dark like a gash across the land, though it seemed to follow the mountains far off in the distance, and something more he couldn't make out. The dense forest surrounding him, the small clearing that the ravine gave way made him feel exposed in the worst way. 

He should get moving. Towards the mountains was his best bet, knowing that there would be a settlement there, where he could ask just where he was. 

A sharp snap sounded not too far away from the forest edge. Byleth tensed, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. 

He saw the sheen of something glint in moonlight just beyond the trees. 

Byleth drew his sword, his body aching in protest as he moved forward out of second nature, ready to subdue whatever or whoever it was coming towards him. A hand pulled back the brush and a figure stepped out onto the rocky path. 

He took this moment, rushing forward his sword coming down on the brush.

Byleth was blocked by the shaft of a lance, the wielder stunned as he pressed forward with what strength he had. They cursed, stumbling as their grip shook. He heard a crackling snap as the lance started to give way. Pushing with a fearsome force, he threw the other to the ground, his blade tearing through the lance as his blade ended up at the throat of his assailant. He couldn't afford to acknowledge the numb feeling spreading through his body. His breathing was coming in short, his head going light as he focused on who he had pinned down. His vision was blurred and spotty as he held his stance.

"You're alive…." The tone was pure disbelief, though he couldn't hear the rest as a ringing consumed his hearing. The voice speaking to him was familiar, he wasn't sure, his body started to shake horribly as the ringing continued. 

Byleth staggered forward, his sword dropping to his side as he felt arms catch him. He gripped tightly at the arm that held him, trying to force out words he couldn't hear. His mouth moved, his voice caught before it sounded, rough and unused. 

Byleth didn't want to return to the darkness. A promise, his students, the war. He had to find them.

He tried to push himself up, the arms that held him steadied his weight as he slumped forward. 

His eyes closed once again as he felt the warm darkness return, the sensation swallowing him up back into a deep sleep. 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so like - what if Seteth found Byleth and just flew him back to the monastery instead of poor Byleth taking a hike to get back, only to end up fighting bandits with (insert lord of your choosing). 
> 
> Ahah, I'm just salty that I have to fight bandits every time before I get to talk my kids.


End file.
